There's a story by the
ineffable Vonnegut called "Who Am I This Time?"
It's about an amateur theatrical event that takes place in a small,
Despite the usual tryouts, everyone pretty much knows beforehand who most probably will be snagging the male lead because it always turns out to be the same guy, Harry Nash. Inevitably the auditions end with Harry Nash as the winner, not as a result of any communal clairvoyance or drama club nepotism, but because Nash, a most unassuming individual in his everyday meanderings, is a veritable master of the amateur acting profession and then some.
There is no funny business or preferential treatment involved in the choice of male lead for these amateur theater productions. It's just that this after-hours actor who invariably lands the starring role happens to be, unfailingly, the very best choice. Harry Nash simply is a fantastically talented individual and a real pro behind the small town footlights. One would never suspect any of this however from the guy's shy, self effacing demeanor while off the stage; in this same vein, usually no one is more surprised than Harry himself when he gets to star each and every time.
Harry Nash apparently could play anything from Abe Lincoln to Stanley Kowalski. When he auditioned for the lead in Streetcar Named Desire for instance, he first appeared on stage a bit awkwardly, wearing something that resembled a "grade school graduation suit" and a "dinky little red tie." He started the audition with his back to the audience. But when he turned around, suddenly he was "huge and handsome and conceited and cruel"- the metamorphosis into the role of the sensual, animal-like and crass Stanley, body and soul, absolute and complete. In essence he was a natural.
What does this have to do with the Nootch?
Well, there is a kind of parallel between Harry Nash and most ordinary toddlers in their everyday trial-and-error behaviors- the sometimes bumbling, often comical endeavors these kids toddle into and then astonish themselves by completing. Toddler accomplishments in fact often are followed by shy and/or surprised responses- just like those of Harry- when something that looks challenging ends up quite successfully; this is mainly because of the simple discovery that he or she is a natural at the particular activity- like catching a ball or jumping- before which this facility or knack was unbeknownst. Shortly after finishing the feat, the child, like Harry, returns to a previous, unassuming, sometimes puzzled world view, as in "I did that?
All of which leads me to the Nootch. . . .
In the tiny, less than minutes long video I received one day- a moving snapshot of a tiny dancer- it's the Nootch's turn to do some toe pointing alongside the teacher. Right point, left point, all the delicate positions in perfect form as she marches beside her instructor, the other children sprawled on the floor watching as they await their own turns.
She doesn't miss a step, it's incredible. So small, so earnest, so precise. A natural!
When this brief and intricate individual jaunt down pointy lane with the large mirror to the right and the teacher alongside concludes with all the finesse she can muster, the Nootch tentatively turns around and humbly walks back to her place in line with the others, a curious look of surprise and almost disbelief on her face.
Her execution? Perfect. The timing? Spot on, she missed nary a beat.
Her expression on the way back to her place onthe floor? Quizzical. Almost apologetic. Golly, I hope I did okay. . . I think I did . . . .Did I really do that. . . really??? 
